Privilege
by Screamer
Summary: Sequel to "You Can't Stay Kids Forever". While running from a past she can't even remember, Tricks and her brother Jack have made more friends-and enemies-than most street kids. Her stalkers are finaly behind bars, but can life ever return to normal for Tricks Kelly? Mush/OC pairing.
1. Chapter 1

_THE BEGINNING_

_Connor Sullivan, his wife, and their two children were people of status, people of privilege. But not even Connor's money, hard earned in the hotel business, could save his first wife from dying during childbirth. Heartbroken, Connor turned to a local Irish immigrant to take care of his infant son. _

_Imagine Connor's surprise when he began to slip out of depression and into love with Nora, his son's nurse. They were married within months, and Nora was pregnant with Connor's second child shortly after. They lived happily, in a plush apartment overlooking Central Park. Though Connor always expected his picture perfect life to come crashing down around his shoulders, Nora's sparkling eyes and smile reassured him that life was good. Content, he spent less and less time at the office and more time with his wife and children, listening to the laughter that seemed to fill the halls at every moment._

_But disaster loomed around the corner. Nora fell ill one day, and fearing it was scarlet fever, this children were sent to live with Connor's sister as a precaution. The laughter that once rang out in the halls was replaced with Nora's hacking coughs and incoherent mumblings._

_XXXXXXXXX_

Jack awoke in the dark bunkroom, thinking about his father. The name Connor Sullivan was the biggest name in news lately. Rolling over, he saw his sister in the next bunk, sleeping peacefully in Mush's arms. Jack was one of the few people who knew about Tricks's nightmares, and what they really meant. Since Tricks was ten or so, she'd been dreaming of hiding behind a grate, with shiny, hardwood floors stretched out before her eyes. Even Mush didn't know those floorboards lined Tricks and Jack's previous home. Jack wasn't even sure Tricks knew why she dreamed of grates and floorboards.

Summer rolled into fall quickly, bringing cooler weather, shorter days, and a sense of calmness. Neither Tricks nor Jack managed to get themselves into any trouble since Tricks's last run in with the Delanceys, but Jack was still restless. The change in the air made him dream of Santa Fe once again. A new life, one far away from the Connor Sullivans of the world. But each time Jack's mind wandered to Santa Fe, it also wandered to Sara. Sara who, though she loved him, would never dream of packing up and moving thousands of miles from her family.

His sister, on the other hand, would follow Jack in a heartbeat. She would probably pack Jack's bags for him. Besides Jack, the only real tie Tricks Kelly had to New York City was Mush. And, knowing Mush would follow her to the moon and back, Tricks wouldn't hesitate to pack up and leave.

Jack sighed and rolled back over. It wasn't even dawn yet; with luck he could squeeze in a few more hours of sleep before Klopman barged into the bunkroom and roused the boys from their sleep. Perhaps those hours of sleep would be free of the plague that was Connor Sullivan.

Jack knew the headlines wouldn't be.

XXXXXXXXXX

_Connor Sullivan had money, and he spent it on the best doctors he could find, in hopes they could restore his wife's health. As Nora got sicker and sicker, Connor frequently retreated to his office to escape the constant parade of doctors and nurses coming and going from his home. Even with Nora finally started to improve, Connor continued to immerse himself in his work._

_The doctors finally deemed it safe for the children to return, but life in the big apartment overlooking the Park was never quite the same. A hushed silence settled over the house as the children observed the parade of doctors and nurses coming and going, day after day. Though she was better, the fever had left Nora Sullivan weakened and a shadow of her former self. Nora valiantly rose from bed each day, intent on spending time with her son and daughter-playing a game, reading a book, dressing up a doll-only to weaken a return to bed a few hours later. _

_Then came the day when the children couldn't rouse Nora from bed. Connor's daughter's screams and pleading echoed through the house, causing several members of the staff to come running to Nora's bedside. One of the butlers was dispatched immediately to Connor's office, another to the doctor's._

_Connor arrived home to find his children in the sitting room. His six-year old daughter was inconsolable, though her brother tried valiantly to comfort her by placing an arm around the girl's shoulders. Connor rushed to his wife's bedside to find her slipping in and out of consciousness as she took shallow, ragged breaths. The doctor, standing silently in the corner, was not prepared for Connor's rage._

_"You said she was better!" he shouted, grabbing the doctor by the throat and lifting him to the wall. "Cured! I'll kill you! I'll kill you, you murderer!" _

_The helpless doctor sputtered out an incoherent answer, his feet flailing wildly as they searched for the floor. Overcome with emotion, Connor finally released the man, and fell to the floor in tears. Finally lifting himself off the floor, he crawled to his wife's bed and laid down beside her, holding her frail body as his tears fell into her hair._

_Two days later, Nora Sullivan was dead._

XXXXXXXX

"Sit still, will ya?" Tricks said irritably, her tongue clenched in between her teeth as she balanced a pair of scissors a half inch from Mush's hair. "Ya keep fidgetin' and ya gonna end up without an ear."

"I'm tryin'!" Mush complained, straightening his back against the chair in an effort to sit still. "If it weren't so damn hot in here-"

"Keep complainin' and I just won't cut the second side," Tricks replied, rolling her eyes. "Gotta lotta other stuff I could be doin'."

"Like what?" Mush asked pointedly. "Not like you been runnin' around helpin' Denton lately." Though it was tempting fate with such sharp scissors so close to his head, Mush spit out what had been bugging him for the past two weeks. Since Mush's recovery, Tricks had been dodging Denton at every turn, opting to sell papers with Mush instead of going to work at _The Sun_.

"Told Denton I'm out," Tricks said shortly, snipping at Mush's unruly hair. "I'm not doin' the interviews anymore."

Mush ripped his head away from Tricks and turned around. "Ya gotta keep doin' them!" he insisted.

"Why? All they do is cause trouble," she said calmly, turning Mush back around forcefully and finishing up her work.

Mush stayed still until her heard the blades snap together, then turned slightly. "Those idiots are in jail," he said seriously, "Ya were doin' somethin' good, something worth it."

"Gave Denton enough contacts," Tricks said, tapping Mush's shoulder so he would get out of the chair, "He can keep goin'."

Mush switched spots with Tricks and took the scissors from her hands, "Wish I could do somethin' like youse doin'. Ya don't get it, Tricks."

"Then tell your story," Tricks said simply, shrugging her shoulders and turning around. She was one of the few people who knew how Mush ended up a Newsie.

"Me? Nah."

"Why not? It's a good story, Mush," Tricks insisted. "Good as most of the others we got printed."

Mush considered the idea for a moment. "I'd think 'bout it," he said finally, "but only if ya the one doin' the interview."

Tricks narrowed her eyes at Mush, realizing that the situation was hopeless, "Just cut my hair."

"What am I doin' again?"

"Cut here," Tricks said, wedging about an inch of her hair between two fingers. "Straight across the whole thing, just like that."

Mush nervously replaced Tricks's fingers with his own and started to cut, slowly letting the scissors slice through his girlfriend's hair. Her straight scarlet hair fell to the floor, landing neatly on top of the mess of brown curls from his own head. "Shouldn't ya have one of ya goilfriends doin' this?"

Tricks turned and gave Mush a small smile. "Don't have many of those," she said sadly, "You're all I got."

XXXXXX

_THE BEGINNING_

_It took two years after his wife's death for Connor Sullivan to fully fall into the madness that would end with a murder. As he sank deeper and deeper into his depression, it became apparent to his household staff that they would need to make sure the children's needs were fully attended to. Both were in school and were escorted to and from classes each day by the butler, Thomas. _

_Connor sank into a depression, retreating to his personal office each morning with a bottle of rum in hand, emerging only to eat once a day. He barely acknowledged his children, and when he did, it was often in confusion, thinking they were home when they were not. _

_Furious at Mr. Sullivan's refusal to take any interest in his own flesh and blood, Clara, the woman who was like a second mother to his children, lashed out. _

_"Ya have no business ignorin' those children, Mr. Sullivan!" she yelled one day, watching Connor's stoic face as his daughter tried to tell him about her day at school. "Youse all they have left in dis world, and ya treat 'em like they don't matter at all."_

_Incised and feeling ridiculed, Connor Sullivan dismissed his entire staff, leaving just him and his two children to wander aimlessly around the apartment. The children stopped attending school, and Connor's business partner ceased control of his assets, locking them up in a trust and allowing Connor Sullivan just enough to maintain a decent lifestyle. Most of that money was spent on liquor at the new club, Irving Hall. With no household staff left, Connor took his children along with him to the show each night, depositing them near the door and telling them not to move._

_Bored and tired of being cooped up in an apartment with a crazy man, Francis Sullivan took to the streets. He learned where his father hid the money; each day he would steal enough money from his father's stash to procure food for himself and his sister. While roaming around New York, he slowly befriended a group of boys hawking newspapers on the corners each morning. _

XXXXXXX

August was drawing to a close with wet, muggy weather that sent the newboys of New York scurrying for shelter as soon as they'd sold their last pape. The streets were empty, with the majority of the city's residents preferring to languish indoors and wait out the storms. Not even the warm, cozy atmosphere of Irving Hall could intense them; Tricks was sent home early as not a single person had shown up for that evening's performance.

Though she was just as disturbed by the headlines as Jack was, Tricks tried her best to ignore the stories and not let them interfere with her life. The trial was due to start the next day, but could take weeks. Since there was no actual confession from the man accused of the murder, just an allegation from a mob informant looking for a lesser sentence on a smaller crime, there was a chance that Connor Sullivan would remain firmly ensconced in jail.

Determined to not let tomorrow's event disrupt her now-free evening, Tricks sauntered into the basement with a large grin on her face, calling dibs on the next one-on-one round of pool. Soon she was facing off against Skittery, as Mush and Race played cards at a nearby table.

Tricks's rambunctious laughter filled the room as Skittery tried in vain to catch up to her on the pool table. When he oculdn't sink his own shots, he resorted to shooting at Tricks's billiards to make her shots harder. Tricks winked as she rolled across the table, planting one toe on the ground and sinking a particularly tricky shot to end the game.

"Doesn't count!" Skittery insisted angrily, folding his arms. "Foot was off the ground."

"Was too on the ground," Tricks insisted, throwing down her pool cue on the table.

"No way. Ya what? Five foot nothin'? I can't make that shot and I's a foot taller than ya."

"Maybe ya should borrow Spec's glasses, 'cause ya obviously are goin' blind in your old age," Tricks sneered back, taunting Skittery.

"Why I outta-" Skittery threatened.

Tricks, realizing she was at a distinct height disadvantage, jumped up on the pool table. Her hand on her hips, she towered over Skittery's lanky form as she yelled back.

"Don't know how ya handle that one, kid," Race said with a shake of his head as he folded his hand and tossed his cards into the pile.

Mush shrugged, "Ya ever take out a pretty goil, but all she does is talk and bore ya ta death?"

"Yeah, so?"

Mush grinned, "Tricks is nevah borin'."

XXXXXXXX

_The summary is awful, I promise I will come up with something better soon! Enjoy the first chapter; I promise to update/finish this but I can't guarantee a chapter a day like I did with "You Can't Stay..."-it was exhausting! Let me know what you guys think and as always, thanks for reading (and even more thanks for reviewing!)!-Screamer_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Tricks was curled up against Mush in his top bunk, her back pressed firmly against his stomach. Mush's gentle snores filled the air but Tricks Kelly couldn't sleep. She envied Jack, and his ability to brush this drama with their father off with a shrug. Her life before the Lodging House was mostly a blur; Tricks wasn't even sure she knew what her father looked like. Was that how Jack remained so calm? Did he know things Tricks didn't, things that reassured him after all the appeals, Connor Sullivan would remain behind bars?

"Go ta sleep, Tricks," Jack's annoyed whisper rang out in the darkness. Impulsively, Tricks squeezed her eyes shut. She was sure Jack had been asleep up until a moment ago.

"Closin' ya eyes ain't gonna convince me youse sleepin'."

Tricks flicked her eyes back open, searching for the bright pinpricks that were her brothers eyes in the dark.

"They don't even know youse is alive, Tricks," Jack reassured her.

"But they know about you..."

"What about me? I eva let ya name get in the Refuge rolls?"

"No." Tricks said softly, not wanting to wake Mush. Mush tended to take on the weight of Tricks's problem, and this was one problem she wanted to keep to herself.

" We've been on the street for years. For all anyone knows, ya dead."

"Ok," She settled back against Mush, who moved slightly, murmuring something in Tricks's ear as he wrapped his arm tighter around her waist. A sudden calm washed over Tricks as she shut her eyes; as much as she wanted to credit Jack's words for it, she knew the credit belonged to the person shallowly snoring next to her.

XXXX

_THE BEGINNING_

_Though he was used to his father disappearing for several days at a time, something about this absence was different. The day the police showed up at the door, Francis Sullivan was ready. Knowing his father was going mad and that he'd promised to take care of his little sister, Francis came up with a plan. He'd packed two small bags of clothes and other supplies, including money pilfered from his father's stash behind a vase on the mantle in the sitting room. The two bags were hidden behind a large grate with a space behind it large enough for both children to hide. _

_Originally, Francis assumed they would be hiding from his father's sister, Aunt Jane, whom they lived with when their mother first got sick. Jane was a bully of a woman, constantly insulting her brother and berating Francis's sister for being the daughter of an immigrant. For nearly two months, the children lived in fear of being seen or heard, knowing that a verbal tirade would be directed their way._

_"We don't have to go back there, do we?" his sister asked him one day, the fear in her eyes making Francis's stomach sink. His father's sister was the only relative they had; who else would be responsible for them? If nothing else, having Connor Sullivan's children as wards meant a large stipend each month to provide for their care._

_But it wasn't the Aunt Jane who rang the bell on that rainy Wednesday morning. _

_XXXXX_

Propped up on one elbow, Mush stared down at an unusually peaceful Tricks Kelly as she slept beside him, her mouth slightly agape and her chest rising and falling as she softly snored. Though Tricks's boisterous and unapologetic demeanor was one of Mush's favorite things about his girlfriend, he appreciated the moments calm and silence when he could get them.

The moment was short lived, however, as Tricks jolted awake, her eyes flicking open and darting around the room, looking for what roused her from her slumber. Her eyes landed on Mush's grinning face.

"Don't _do_ that!" Tricks whispered threateningly, swatting at Mush's chest. He chuckled back and Tricks narrowed her eyes at him.

"Mornin'," he said softly, a trace of his grin in his voice. The sky outside was streaked with blue and pink, and a soft light was slowly creeping over the bunkroom floor. Klopman would be coming to rouse the boys from their sleep within the hour.

"I should go get ready," Tricks said with a yawn, stretching her arms and legs out sleepily. Mush had convinced her to go back to work with Denton, and she would be heading there later that morning. Mush knew Tricks would never admit it, but she was anxious how Denton would react when she showed up at _The Sun_.

Mush grabbed her wrist as Tricks prepped to swing off the top bunk. "Stay," he said, "Just for a liddle bit while everyone's sleepin'."

Tricks looked at him for a moment, and complied, laying back down so her head was turned to his on the pillow, their noses and foreheads touching. Tricks sighed and closed her eyes, as Mush brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her softly.

Tricks eyes remained closed, the expression on her face placid and serene. She refused to mention it, but Mush knew today's trial and the headlines from the past few days weighed heavily on Tricks's mind. As hard as she tried to hide it, Mush saw the stress manifest in little gestures, little tics in her normal behavior: wringing her hands randomly, running her fingers through her hair, the momentary falter of a smirk on her face.

"I-I love youse," he said, gathering up as much courage as he could muster. Mush knew that Tricks was not one to discuss her feelings when it came to their relationship and knew that the response he would get back from her would not be the one he hoped for. But, on a day when Mush knew Tricks would do everything in her power to hide how she really felt, Mush wanted her to know how strong his feelings were.

But he took his chances anyway, spitting out those three small words and steeling himself for whatever overreaction Tricks would throw his way.

"I love ya, too," Tricks said simply, flicking her eyes open and locking them on Mush's.

"Ha!" Mush laughed involuntarily; it was not the answer he was expecting.

"That's not very nice," she grumbled, closing her eyes once again and yawning as she settled back into sleep.

"Just didn't expect ya ta say that."

Tricks smiled mischievously, "Can't get too predictable, can I?" she asked. "Where's da fun in that?"

"Will you two love boirds, shut up?" Blink said from the bunk below, throwing a dirty sock at Mush's back. "Some-a us are still tryin' ta sleep!"

"Shuddup!" Mush hissed back, throwing the sock at Blink.

"'Cept when ya snorin'. I don't even_ like_ ya when ya snorin'," Tricks yawned again, stretching her arms.

Mush grinned. That was more like it.

XXXXXXX

"You can't go dressed like that," Denton said, as Tricks emerged from her room, dressed in pants and a Newsboys cap. Though surprised to see him in the Lodging House, Tricks didn't miss a beat.

"Didn't know _The Sun_ had a dress code now," Tricks said, hopping up on the counter and taking the apple Denton offered her. "Lots changed in the month I been gone, huh?" Tricks bit into the apple and offered a bite to Mush, who leaned against the counter next to her.

"Nothing's changed at the office, but we're supposed to be in court today," Denton replied irritably, handing Tricks the garment bag draped over his arm. "Luckily, someone at the office was smart enough to put together some clothes for you."

"That's today?" Tricks said with a scowl as she took the bag from Denton. The rest of the boys were emerging from the bunkroom, sleepily stumbling into the lobby.

"Denton," Jack said, emerging from the stairs as he pulled on his vest. "Ta what do we owe da pleasure?"

Denton nodded towards Tricks. "Well, I figured someone needed to make sure Tricks arrived at court in one piece," he said, then turned towards Tricks. "Go change, the judge doesn't wait on people."

Tricks scowled and jumped off the counter, "Jack, ya comin' with us?"

Jack looked appraisingly at Tricks. "Think Mush can handle it on his own," he finally replied. Identical looks of shock appeared on both Tricks's and Mush's faces, but both remained silent. Tricks watched her brother's back retreat out the door before slipping into her room.

XXXXXX

If it were up to Tricks, she would not be in court today. But justice for crimes against street kids and orphans was not easily come by, and Tricks knew this case was less about her and more about the millions of young people like her who never got the chance to confront their torturers. Plus, this was Denton's battle and Tricks owed him a favor after all he'd done for her and her friends.

The crowd was boisterous as they approached the court house; Tricks, miraculously, had forgotten that today was the day her father would be in court as well. The trial of the year, a good headline, a crush of reporters encircling the courthouse.

She made her way through the crowd, Denton on one side, Mush on the other. She refused to let the mob of people or the police officers lined up around the courthouse intimidate her; as she approached the clutch of reporters, she pulled her shoulders back and stuck out her chin, staring defiantly ahead. The newspaper circulation wars were escalating, and reporters, looking for the day's best headline, were known to shout insults at those entering court, hoping a hot headed response would garner a good story.

A man collided with Tricks, thrusting her into the gaggle of people and reporters attempting to catch a glimpse of someone approaching from the other direction. Over the heads of the crowd, a tall man with hollow eyes stared at Tricks, following her as she made her way up the steps and through the courthouse doors. His gaze made Tricks feel uncomfortable, and she held on to Mush's arm for support as he pushed back the crowd. Tricks gave one last glance over her shoulder at the man, then disappeared behind the thick wooden doors into the sweltering heat of the courthouse.

In the courthouse, Tricks saw the Delanceys being led into court room, handcuffs shackling their arms and legs. Oscar sneered at Tricks, but said nothing. She too remained silent, but refused to look away as Oscar and his brother were lead into the court room. The two henchmen, and her old boss, Gus, followed.

Tricks felt her body tense as Gus walked by; she had not seen him since escaping the factory almost three months before.

"Tricks, ya alright?" Mush asked with concern, putting his hands on her upper arms and turning Tricks away from the doors to the courtroom. He leaned down and searched her face for a trace of fear.

"Yeah," Tricks said, shaking her head, "Yeah, I'm fine," she turned to Denton. "Let's just get this over wit, ok?"

XXXXXX

If Tricks Kelly was nervous to be sitting in a courtroom filled with people, she didn't seem it. She sat in an outfit picked out for her by Denton's secretary, he head held high, exuding a confidence that even Bryan Denton was jealous of. It was the same confidence that drew Denton to Jack Kelly during the Newsboys Strike.

Rose, Denton's secretary, picked out the clothes Tricks wore: a simple, dark skirt and white high collared dress shirt with a green sash. When the court attendant gruffly summoned Tricks to the stand, she rose and strode confidently towards the bench. Though not by any means imposing in stature, every set of the eyes in the room followed her as she sat and stated her name (a name Denton knew was false) for the record. The false name was less of an agreed upon lie and more of a necessity: Tricks didn't actually know her real name and the police reports all referenced Jane Kelly.

"Can you identify the men who attempted to break into your bedroom that night?" The prosecutor asked.

"Yes, sir." Tricks was on her best behavior, her harsh Manhattan accent all but disappearing as she fielded questions. Denton could only testify about the written threats; it was Tricks who could identify her attackers.

"Are they in this room?"

"Yes, sir," she replied confidently and pointed to the defense's table. "Their right there, Oscar and Morris Delancey."

"And what did Mr. and Mr. Delancey say to you before they left that evening?"

"Morris Delancey said 'Gus said to keep your mouth shut, or next time it will be worse,'" Tricks said clearly as the prosecutor sat back down.

The defense attorney stood, hooking his thumbs under his suspenders as he approached the bench. "So, Ms. Kelly...all we have now is your word against my clients'. And why, exactly, should your word count more than theirs?"

Tricks's hesitated as she searched for an answer.

_"C'mon, c'mon!"_ Denton said silently, hoping this simple question would not throw the rest of her testimony out.

"Because it's the truth," she said finally, her voice ringing hollowly through the room. A few people in the gallery chuckled.

"Is there anyone else who can _corroborate_ this claim?"

Denton smiled. The attorney, underestimating the intelligence of a street kid, was using big words in an attempt to trip Tricks up, to get her to backtrack on her story. Bryan Denton knew better.

"Several people can _corroborate_ my story, _sir,"_ Tricks spit back, showing her fiery for the first time on the stand. "At least fifteen newsboys can confirm I'm tellin' the truth."

The attorney rolled his eyes, "I see. Too bad none of them are here to, erm, tell the truth alongside you," he sat back down and the crowd began to murmur. Gus, the Delanceys, and the two henchmen grinned widely.

"Someone can," Tricks said quietly from the stand.

"What was that?" Judge Smith asked.

Tricks raised her voice and stuck her chin out, "I said 'someone can', as in someone in this room can _corroborate_ I'm telling the truth."

"Who?"

For a brief moment the confidence on Tricks's face faltered and Denton say her eyes flick towards Mush. "Jeremiah Meyers."

"I object!" the defense attorney shouted, jumping up from his chair. The judge beckoned forward the two lawyers and leaned in to converse with them. The city attorney looked pleased as he left the bench; the defense attorney looked like he wanted to punch someone.

Judge Smith cleared his throat, "Is there a Jeremiah Meyers in the gallery?"

Pale as a bed sheet, his hat spinning nervously in his hands, Mush rose to his feet. "That's me, ya honor."

XXXXXXXX

_THE BEGINNING_

_As the heavy footfalls of the two police officers pounded up the stairs, Francis grabbed his sister and pulled her behind the piano in the sitting room. He quickly removed the grate to a vent that ran throughout the home and ushered her inside. Francis held his finger up to his lips, imploring her to be quiet as the men entered the apartment. His sister shook with fear, terrified of being caught as the shiny black boots walked past the grate again and again._

_"Poor bastard probably killed them , too," said one of the two police men walking through the empty apartment, "no sign of either of them."_

_"You wanna be the one ta tell the Captain we lost the madmen's kids?" the second officer replied with a chuckle._

_"What else are we supposed to do? Been searching for nearly an hour." Francis could hear the men picking up various knickknacks and placing them haphazardly back on surfaces where they didn't belong, as well as the distinct sound of a cork being pulled from the bottle of rum kept near the mantle._

_The boots of the second man paused directly in front of the grate and Francis drew a sharp breath. "Wait outside for a few hours. Might have gone off to school. Poor kids, returning home from school to find out their father's been thrown in jail for murder..."_

_XXXXXXX_


	3. Chapter 3

The morning after her day in court, Tricks sauntered to Herald Square with the rest of the Newsies before daylight broke on the horizon. Denton would be testifying that morning, so it was no use going to _The Sun_. Besides, the Connor Sullivan appeal (for all the anxiety it gave Tricks) was the biggest story of the past few years. With its apparent mob connections, people were already comparing it to the trials surrounding the murderess, Mrs. Nack. Those headlines revolutionized the newspaper industry, and put a lot of extra coins in the pockets of the Newsies. Tricks and Mush lived like kings those few months in 1897 when stories of dismembered bodies and scorned lovers dominated the headlines.

Now that she was working with Denton again, selling papers wasn't really a necessity for Tricks. But the thrill of the headlines and the prospect of sitting idly in the Lodging House all day drove her to the docks to wait in line and see what _The World_ would say about the trial. Tricks eagerly paid for her papers and hopped down next to her brother and Race on the dock, Mush following behind. She pulled a small wax paper bag of sweets from her pockets, popped one into her mouth and passed the bag around. One of the perks of working for Medda was getting the unsold candy at a discount each night.

The Connor Sullivan appeal was the headline of the day, though you wouldn't know it by looking at the paper.

_SENSATIONAL DAY IN COURT!_

_Mobster, Journalists both take stand in separate trials; Did doctor die for botching mob job?_

Tricks's eyes scanned the trial write up for a titillating bit of information she could spin into a good sales pitch. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the black and white photograph on under the headline. Tricks gasped, causing her to choke on the piece of candy in her mouth. Tricks coughed violently and the sweet dislodged from her throat, landing on the pavement below.

"Well, dat's just a waste," Race said, eying the sticky candy for a moment before returning to his paper.

"Ya ok?" Mush asked with concern, squatting down next to her. Tricks shook her head violently and pointed at the paper. "Isn't dat-" Mush started to ask, recognizing the man from the paper as the one from the courthouse, but Tricks shot him a warning look and shook her head slightly. Mush was the only person Tricks and Jack had told about their connection to Connor Sullivan; if any of the other Newsies had suspicions, they didn't voice them and Tricks and Jack preferred to keep it that way.

"Jack," Tricks said, her voice barely a whisper as she clutched his shirtsleeve, "Member that guy I said was starin' at me at the courthouse?"

"Yeah?" Jack replied, not looking up from the paper he was holding.

"That's him," Tricks said evenly, shoving her copy of the paper's front page under her brother's nose.

Jack glanced at the front page picture. A man with hollow eyes and a carefully groomed mustache was being lead through a mob of reporters gathered in front of the marble courthouse steps. Jack didn't need the caption to recognize the man:

_Convicted murderer Connor Sullivan enters the Broadway Court House_

XXXXXXXXXX

_Francis wasn't sure how long the police men stationed outside their front door would wait, or if they would return to the apartment after realizing the children were not at school. They'd been hiding in the grate for most of the day, and both of the children's stomachs were rumbling with hunger. _

_He cautiously removed the grate cover, warning his sister to be quiet, and tiptoed over to the window. Careful to hide his face behind the curtain, Francis snuck a glance at the street below. Neither officer was standing by the door; perhaps they had given up and gone back to the police station?_

_"C'mon," he said, grabbing his sister by the hand and pulling her out of their hiding place. The sun was beginning to set and Francis still wasn't sure what to do; staying here was a risk. What would the police do if they were found?_

_But the other choice was spending the night alone on the street with his sister. _

_"You trust me, right?" he asked, grabbing the girls hand. She nodded solemnly. "Then you have to do whatever I say from now on, ok?" _

_Francis gathered up a few blankets and the little food that was left in the untended kitchen before leading his sister through door he'd only seen their house staff use. She gripped his hand tightly as Francis slowly made his way through the dark passage, his hands on the wall as a guide. By the time they reached the end of the passage, it was nearly dark and Francis almost tripped over the top step as they emerged into the cool, damp evening. _

_Francis checked to ensure the small backyard area was clear and that the neighbor's curtains were pulled before leading his sister to the small, empty carriage house that stood in the far corner of the yard. Francis opened the boot of the carriage that sat unused since the departure of their butler. Using the blankets, he constructed a make shift bed and lifted his sister inside._

_She sat, wide-eyed, curled up in a corner and shivering slightly. Francis climbed in next to her and sat, cross legged in the middle of the boot. _

_"Here," he said with a smile, handing her an apple. "We're gonna be fine. I promise."_

_XXXX_

"Are ya tellin' Sara?" Tricks asked as she and Jack made their way towards the Lower East Side where David's family lived. As his relationship with Sara became more serious, Jack dragged Tricks to dinner with her family with greater frequency. Working at Medda's meant Tricks had very few nights to herself, or rather to spend with Mush.

"Don't see the point," Jack said, shadowboxing himself as they walked. "We don't even know if he's gonna get out-"

"-and even if he does," Tricks interrupted, rolling her eyes, "who says he's gonna come lookin' for us?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jack smirked, faking a punch Tricks's way. "Just don't run ya mouth durin' dinner."

"No idea what ya talkin' about," Tricks said seriously, "I nevah cause trouble."

XXXXXX

Being in the Jacobs' apartment always made Tricks feel uncomfortable. Sara and her mother subscribed to more traditional gender roles, roles that Tricks never needed to (or could, really) follow as a Newsie. Cooking and setting a table were out of Tricks's wheelhouse, and she awkwardly stumbled around the kitchen taking directions from the older women. As she set the table, a glass slipped out of her hand and shattered on the floor.

"Dammit!" Tricks whispered the curse under her breath as she crouched down to pick up the glass.

"I got it, I got it," David said with a smile, bending down and helping Tricks scoop up the glass. "Careful you don't get cut."

"Thanks," Tricks whispered back, depositing a handful of glass into the napkin David was holding. "I'm usually not this clumsy, I swear."

Sara and Mrs. Jacobs refrained from handing Tricks anything else breakable, pointedly giving her a handful of silverware to set near each plate. Tricks was relieved to finally sit down at the table, and silently dug into her meal of meat and potatoes as the others conversed around her.

"Did you run into Connor Sullivan at the courthouse, Jane?" Mr. Jacobs asked in between bites of his meal. David's family insisted on using her first name, and Tricks didn't realize at someone was speaking to her until Jack kicked her foot.

"Can't say I did," she muttered into her potatoes. "But there was a lotta commotion around the courthouse this mornin'." She looked up at Jack, who nodded approval at her words. Talking about her father's case in a situation she was already uncomfortable

"I imagine so," Mr. Jacobs replied. "Maybe you'll get a good headline tomorrow?"

"Probably a good bet," Jack answered for her, deflecting the conversation away from Tricks. She took a deep breath and relaxed, glad she hadn't let anything slip that would upset Jack. Tricks felt immense pressure to simultaneously impress the Jacobs and not embarrass Jack. If Jack was as serious about Sara as he seemed to be, Tricks would soon have a sister-in-law.

After dinner, Jack and Sara excused themselves to take a short walk, and Tricks followed David out onto the fire escape for some fresh air.

"Sorry for breakin' that glass," Tricks said quietly, resting her elbows on the rail.

"It's nothing, really," David assured her. "Just relax a little, huh? My family's not gonna bite you."

Tricks laughed, "I'll try, can't promise anythin'. I'm not used to this whole family thing." Tricks just wanted Jack and Sara to return, so she could escape back to the bunkhouse and back to Mush.

"Neither was Jack," David told her with a shrug. "They should be back soon."

Tricks nodded and looked out at the New York skyline as the sun disappeared behind the buildings. "Guess this is pay back," she replied.

"Huh?" David asked with confusion.

Tricks smiled. "Now I know how Jack feels when I'm runnin' around wit Mush."

XXXXX

_I apologize guys, I've been going through a bit of a personal rough patch & have had some trouble getting the motivation to do much of anything, including writing. But looking over some of the now 100 reviews (awesome!) for YCSKF made me smile and I tried to come up with something for you all. I figured a short chapter was better than no chapter at all. Thanks for reading and reviewing. -Screamer_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_The sun was barely peaking over the clouds when Francis shook his sister awake. Bleary eyed, she followed his instructions as they packed up and snuck out of the carriage house. The policemen from the day before had not returned, but Francis was still cautious as they snuck from the carriage house to the street._

_New York was just waking from slumber, men and women in plain work clothes slowly made their way to the factories and docks. Francis's feet beat the familiar path to the shops and food carts of Herald Square, where he'd purchased food and other necessities since Connor fired the household staff. Not wanting to return to his home, Francis had often loitered around the Square and eventually befriended some of the newsboys who bought their papers from the distribution office each morning._

_"Go along with whatever I say, understand?" Francis said, gripping his sister's hand. They ducked into an alley nearby, waiting for someone Francis knew to emerge from the distribution office gates. Francis spotted a lanky, dark haired boy heading into the Square._

_"Stay here," he instructed, leaving his sister alone in the alleyway and stepping out onto the street._

_"Hey, Race," he said nervously , approaching the dark haired boy._

_Race turned and squinted. "Jack, right?"He asked, using the fake name Francis used on the streets of New York. _

_"Yeah, yeah," Francis confirmed, nodding, "Need a favor. Gotta start makin' some money. Think ya can teach me to sell newspapers."_

_"Shoa, ain't that hard," Race replied, looking Francis up and down as he lit a cigarette. "Got some cash?"_

_Francis pulled a handful of coins from his pocket, and shifted nervously from foot to foot, "Just one thing," hek said, retreating back to the alley and grabbing his sister's hand._

_Race flinched slightly as Francis pulled his sister out on to the street. After a few moments of silence, Race finally spoke, "Don't worry, kid. We'll figure it out. C'mon."_

_Francis glanced at the stack of papers in Race's hands. Blaring from the front page: '_RICH & MURDEROUS: HOTELIER STABS DOCTOR OVER DEAD WIFE'

XXXXXXX

September arrived in New York City suddenly, bringing with it cool, crisp nights. After all the drama surrounding the last few months, Tricks was content to spend nights at the bunkhouse surrounded by her friends as the summer faded away. Though Mush would have taken her anywhere she wanted to go, date nights consisted of taking a blanket, book, deck of cards and two colas to the roof at night.

The intention was for Tricks to read aloud to Mush, or for the two of them to play a few rounds of poker or pinochle; what normally happened involved making out until Tricks felt smothered, almost like she couldn't breathe.

"Hey, hey," Tricks said, pulling her lips away from Mush's and grinning. "Relax aliddle, stop for some air."

"Got some air," he said with a dreamy grin as he leaned back in towards Tricks.

Tricks ducked away and stood up. "Think I liked ya better when ya were bedridden," she said, folding her arms and giving Mush a pointed look.

"Yeah," Mush said, rolling his eyes and laying down on the blanket to look at the sky, "well, youse a lot easier ta deal wit when you're sleepin'-hey!"

With his eyes on the sky, Mush didn't notice Tricks chucking her book at him. Her compilation of Sherlock Holmes stories hit Mush square in the chest.

Picking up her book, Tricks settled on the blanket next to Mush, propping her body up on her elbows and starting to read.

"Ya sellin' wit me tomorrow?" Mush asked, rolling over onto his side to look at Tricks.

"Nope," she replied, not lifting her eyes from the page.

"Got a betta date or somethin'?"

"Court date," she replied testily, turning the page with more force then necessary to make a point.

"Want me ta go with ya?"

"Nah," she replied, "Ya already missed sellin' one day sittin' in court wiht me."

"What if...there's a big crowd, like last time."

"Mush, if I needed a babysitter, I'd go downstairs and find Jack Kelly," she said exasperatedly, "'Sides I'm gonna show up a little late, miss the crowd. Probably be at least an hour before they actually read the thing, maybe more."

"Wish I was brave, like you. Like Jack." Mush said quietly, throwing a stray pebble across the roof.

"Ya stood up in court the other day, told the judge I was tellin' the truth. That was pretty brave."

"Dat was different," he replied quietly, throwing another pebble across the roof.

Tricks closed her book and sighed. "Ya wanna know why I'm so brave?" Mush nodded and Tricks sat up, folding her legs underneath her body, sitting Indian-style.

"Cause of you," she said seriously, " And Jack. And Race. And...and even Blink."

Mush opened his mouth to speak, but Tricks cut him off. "Listen, all those things Jack and I do, all the takin' a stand, none of it mattas without you guys. Especially you...well for me."

"Huh?"

"Mush, no matter what crazy scheme I come up with, no matter what dumb thing I say, no matter how much trouble I cause, you're always there, backing me up. Even when you know I's wrong,"

'Member that time, we were what nine or ten? And dat really big kid...what's his name, Strings? He bet me I couldn't climb that tree in Central Park, the one that didn't have any branches lower than me head?"

"I remembers that," Mush replied quietly, looking up and Tricks.

"And what happened?"

"Jack told ya, ya were crazy, said it was dumb even ta try."

"Yup," Tricks said with a smile, her hair falling in her face as she looked back at Mush. "But ya told me I could do it, even went wit me to the Park and didn't laugh and me when I fell flat on my butt."

Mush "Didn't think you'd remember dat,"

"'Course I do," Tricks replied, laying down next to Mush, her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. "Ya picked me up and dusted me off when I fell. And dat's why I can be so 'brave', I got people like you to pick me up, dust me off, and tell me I don't look as dumb as I feel."

Mush didn't say anything, but he gave her shoulders a momentary tight squeeze and Tricks knew he understood what she was trying to tell her. Tricks closed her eyes, listening to the gentle clip-clop of horse hooves against the cobblestone below. Mush's slow steady breathing lulled Tricks into semi-unconsciousness.

"Sure ya don't wanna go get papes wit me and I'll drop ya off after?" Mush asked and Tricks jumped, pulled out of her light slumber.

"Mush, I'll be fine," Tricks mumbled, putting her head back down. "Promise. 'Sides, the last thing I wanna see is another headline about Connor Sullivan."

XXXXX

The cool fall air settling over New York did nothing to the stagnant, muggy air that filled the courthouse. Denton handed Tricks a newspaper as they sat side by side on the second bench from the lawyers' tables. Tricks actively avoided papers all morning, if not for the sweltering heat in the courtroom, she would have declined the paper. Grabbing the paper from Denton's hand, her eyes fell on today's headline:

'INFORMANT RECALLS GRISTLY DETAILS: DOCTOR SHOT IN BACK AS HE HELPED PATIENT'

Tricks frowned, folded the paper in half and began fanning her face. Though minimal, Tricks did feel slightly cooler as they waited for the verdict to bed handed down. She sat there awkwardly, shaking people's hands and Denton introduced her to the various newspaper men who came over to speak to him.

Almost two hours after her arrival at the courthouse, the five defendants were lead into the room, clad in gray prison uniforms with shackles on their hands and feet. Oscar grinned at her as he entered and Tricks returned his grin with an emotionless gaze. The other four men refused to look at her.

The entire viewing gallery rose as the judge emerged from his quarters and took his seat behind the bench. As the jury filed in, Tricks felt overwhelmed by the heat and felt like she was going to faint.

_'Just announce the verdict.'_ she begged silently, wanting to get out of the confined space and into the fresh air. Denton turned and gave her a reassuring smile as the jury foreman, a tall, balding man stood.

"Have you reached a verdict?" the judge asked.

"We have your honor," the foreman confirmed. "On the first charge of stalking, we find the defendants guilty-"

They continued on the list, guilty, guilty guilty, guilty, guilty on each charge. Tricks sighed in relief, gripping the bench in front of her for support. The sentencing hearing would come at a later date, but for the now, all give men would remain behind bars.

Tricks glanced at the men as the bailiffs led them down the main aisle and out of the courtroom. Unlike the hecklers in the crowd, Tricks refused to say anything as they passed, refusing to do anything more than glance out of the corner of her eyes to acknowledge their presence. As Morris passed by her, he paused and Tricks turned to look at him, her mouth firmly set in a frown.

Before she realized what was happening, something slimy and warm hit her on the check. Morris had spit in her face. A loud hiss emanated from the crowd around her and several hands reach out to tug, pull, and punch at Morris, who laughed as the bailiff tugged him away. Tricks took a deep, steadying breath as she used Denton's handkerchief to wipe the spit off her breath. The crowd around her was pouring into the aisles, desperate to leave the stifling room now that the show was over.

Pandemonium broke out as the audience filed through the doors into the courthouse hallway: a thick, black smoke curled its way into the courtroom; the acrid smell burned Tricks's nose as she inhaled. People raced for the door, tripping and stepping over each other in their panic. In the shuffle, Tricks was separated from Denton; the smoke continued billowing in, making it increasingly harder to see and breathe. She needed to find an escape, an outlet to fresh air because:

The courthouse was on fire.

XXXX


	5. Chapter 5

The room was filling with smoke at an alarming rate; Tricks couldn't see a more than six inches in front of her face and her lungs burned from inhaling the smoke. She dropped to her knees and crawled out to the main aisle, taking big gulps of clean air as she made her way towards the front of the courtroom.

The jury box was raised slightly and stood a few feet in front in front of the end of the gallery balcony. With a little luck, she could climb the jury box, grab the balcony rail and hoist her body up over it. Windows lined one wall, Tricks would just need to find something to break them with. They were barely two stories up, at worst, she'd have to jump to the ground and would wind up with a broken or two.

Tricks bumped into the judge's bench head first and momentarily saw stars in front of her eyes; behind her she could hear the frustrated shouts and terrified screams of people trying desperately to squeeze through the small courtroom doors. Outside, the loud bells of the fire brigade became increasingly louder as the horse drawn carriages drew closer. The jury box was relatively close to the judge's bench, so she turned, placing one shoulder against the bench, and crawled towards where she assumed the jury box was, feeling in front of her to avoid hitting her head again.

After what felt like hours, Tricks's hands hit the smooth, polished surface of the jury box. Soaked in sweat from the heat pouring into the room, Tricks' hands slipped as she tried to pull herself up to a standing position. She struggled, but prevailed, closing her eyes as the thick smoke stung them once again. Tricks climbed over the rail and to one of the chairs in the back row. She opened her eyes quickly and jumped, her hands finding and gripping the railing that lined the upper viewing galley. She dangled there helplessly for a few moments, unable to find the strength to pull the rest of her body up and onto the balcony.

_'Just pull yourself up, done it hundreds of times runnin' from the bozos that just got thrown in jail.'_

The heat was becoming more and more unbearable, Tricks gritted her teeth, mustered her teeth and slowly pulled her body and legs up over the rail. She collapsed on to the balcony floor; the smoke up here was even worse than on the main floor. A vague hazy light streamed through the darkness and Tricks quickly crawled over; her head was spinning, if she didn't get air soon she was going to pass out. But how would she break the window open?

Her answer came in the form of a small statute, knocked loose when Tricks hit the pedestal it was standing on. She tucked it under one arm and continued resolutely towards the light. Reaching the window, she stood on her knees and threw the heavy statue at the glass. It broke with a satisfying shatter.

Just as Tricks looked out the window to judge the distance to the ground, she heard a woman scream.

XXXXXXXXXXX

_"The betta the headline, the more papes ya wanna get," Race explained to the siblings as they meandered through the streets. "Right now, dis guy who murdered some doctor means a good headline. People eat dis stuff up."_

_Francis, or Jack as he was now known, cautiously bought a measly thirty papes on the first day. He quickly learned to use both the day's headline and how many papes the rest of the Newsies bought to judge how many he could sell in a day._

_The now Jack and Jane Kelly learned what happened to their father by reading the headlines of the papers they hawked on the street corners of New York City every day. _

HEARTLESS! SULLIVAN CALLED COPS, STILL HAD BLOOD ON HANDS WHEN FOUND AT CRIME SCENE

_Unsure if girls were welcome in the Newsboys Lodging House, Race and Jack disguised Jane in a pair of pants and tucker her hair under a newsboy cap that first night. Still angry at her brother for christening her with the name of the aunt she despised, Jane Kelly went crossed her arms and stomped straight to bed that night._

_"She always that moody?" Race asked in astonishment._

_"Yup," Jack replied with a sigh, "but she's still me sister, someone's gotta look out for her."_

_About a week after they disappeared, the newspapers finally picked up the story of the missing Sullivan children:_

WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN? Madman Stays Silent; Son & Daughter Still Missing

_Jane Kelly, pulled from school at a young age, never really learned how to read, but the Newises had learned how to shout, especially when it came to a good headline. And headlines about murder, dead wives, and missing children were sure to grab attention._

_Realizing what the day's headline was, Jane froze, her face turning such a brilliant shade of white Jack feared she was going to pass out. Jack scanned the front page; _The World_ had a sketch of an old photograph of Jack and his sister. He breathed a sigh of relief; after Nora Sullivan fell ill, no one bothered to take the children for a picture sitting. The sketch in the paper was based off a picture that about four years old. There was little chance that anyone would recognize them based off this sketch._

_Jack pulled Jane to the side, away from the crowd of boys pouring over today's stories. Race was the closest thing Jack had to a best friend, and Jack hadn't even told him his secret. "We're gonna be fine," Jack said seriously, "I promise, ok?"_

_She nodded, looking up at Jack with tears threatening to spill over her eyelashes, "He doesn't even care if we're alive."_

_Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulder, "Didn't really care if we were dead or alive when we lived in the same house...what makes you think he's gonna care now?"_

XXXXXXX

The fire was licking the doorway to the courtroom, flames reaching in and scorching the benches on the main floor. Through the smoky haze, Tricks could see a group of about ten people, cowering in a corner.

"Hey!" she yelled, choking on the smoke, "Over here! Got a window open! Follow my voice and climb out!" Tricks continued yelling, acting like a beacon to those trapped on the balcony. Every few words she shoved her head out the window and took big gulps of fresh air.

"Give me your sashes, coats, any extra clothin' you got!" Tricks yelled, as the small, coughing group of people surrounded her. "And get down! Air's cleaner closer ta the ground!"

A few men offered up their coats, but several of the woman in the group sat motionless, crouched close to the ground and coughing. Tricks motioned for the sash of the woman nearest to her, thinking they hadn't heard her request.

"I can't do that," one women protested, "this is my best dress."

"Look, you wanna get outta here alive?" Trick said irritably and the women nodded. "Then gimme that sash, and anything else I can use to make a rope."

Deftly tying the assorted men's' jackets and ladies clothes she was handed, Tricks hooked one end around the foot of a nearby bench and strung the rest of the escape rope out the window. The multicolored rope hung about six feet from the ground; the jump wouldn't be a concern, but making it down without the makeshift rope tearing or fraying would be a challenge.

She motioned the four ladies in the group forward and barked instructions on how to shimmy down the rope, telling them to let go at the very end and roll out of the way. Counting to fifteen between each woman, she motioned the rest of the group forward as she watched the soot covered figures cautiously let their bodies fall onto the small grassy patch outside the courthouse.

A boy who couldn't be more than ten stepped forward and Tricks picked him up, steadying him on the ledge. "Ya know how to climb?" she asked, coughing between each word. The boy nodded solemnly and Tricks could see him tremble. "Good, hold on tight an' when you get to the very bottom, let go and roll, like the acrobats do at the circus ok?"

The boy nodded again but didn't move down the rope. "Don't worry," Tricks urged, "We're gonna be right behind ya, ok?" She squeezed the boy's hand and he slowly started descending the rope.

"Who's next?" Tricks shouted, feeling as though her lungs were going to cave in. Breathing was much more difficult when you had to shout orders amid the smoke. There was a loud crack as the top of the door to the room collapsed and Tricks flinched. "C'mon, we gotta keep movin'!"

A man stood and made a break for the window, but one of his fellows pulled him back down, "Let the girl go first!" someone hacked out.

Tricks was about to protest but the man was at her side, pushing her to the window. "You've done enough, go. We'll be right behind you. You saved our lives," Tricks's eyes locked with the set of brown ones currently staring at her.

_Mush, _she thought, realizing that if she died in this fire, she'd never get to see Mush's eyes again. In a flash she was on the window ledge, grabbing the rope and trying to avoid the broken glass that littered the area.

"Women and children first," the man assured her, helping her over the ledge.

_I'm not a woman, I'm a Newsie!_ Tricks grumbled in her head as she descended the rope. Half-way down she looked back up; the men were starting to crawl out the window and to safety. At the bottom of the rope, she followed the orders she'd already barked at five other people and let go of the last part of the rope: her own green sash. Though she attempted to roll gracefully as she hit the grass, she knew large purple welts were already forming where her body made impact with the ground. The little boy ran over to Tricks, hugging her tightly.

"Ya fine," Tricks said soothingly, pulling the boy into her lap. Large carriages with water hoses surrounded the courthouse, trying in vain to stop the flames burning brightly from every side of the structure. Dazed, confused, and covered in soot, people wandered around the courthouse shouting out of loved ones.

As the last person reached the ground, the windows on the first floor exploded, shards of glass flew through the air. Instinctively, Tricks turned away from the glass, protecting her face as it flew through the air. She pulled the boy with her, protecting him as well. Several people with slower reaction times screamed as the sharp remnants of the courthouse windows cut into their skin. Firemen shouted, ushering people away from the building.

Tricks stood, taking the young boy's hand, "Can ya see who ya came with?" she asked calmly. The boy nodded, tears filling his eyes. She squeezed his hand tighter. "C'mon, we're gonna find them."

"Thank you," the woman who hesitated giving Tricks her clothes said as the two passed, "for saving our lives."

"No problem."

The boy's hand still clenched tightly in hers, Tricks made her way over to the large crowd of people gathering in the main road. Until they were sure the boy's parents weren't among the walking, Tricks didn't want to go near the triage station set up one of the auxiliary streets.

"What were they wearin'?" she asked the boy, trying to make small talk as they scanned the crowd.

"My papa was wearin' a dark blue suit," he said quietly, "and mama's hat was blue too, but light blue. Somethin' on her dress was blue, too.'

"The sash,' Tricks replied confidently, looking around for the two anxious parents dressed in dark and light blue. "What else?"

"TRICKS!"

Someone was calling out Tricks's name; she stood on her tiptoes and saw the flat rimmed hat of Bryan Denton struggling to make its way out of the mob of people.

"Thank god you made it out alive," Denton said breathlessly as he reached her. One of the sleeves on his coat was singed, but there were no other burns or marks on him. "I'm sorry, I lost you in the rush of the crowd."

"It's fine," Tricks waved it off, "Right now, we gotta find-" Realizing she didn't know the boy's name, she looked at him expectantly.

"Max."

"Max," Tricks repeated, "we gotta find Max's mama and papa."

Though Denton wanted to head back to the office, Trick adamantly refused, insisting they stay with the young boy until he was reunited with his parents. Or at least until Tricks knew what happened to them. The three blacked, singed, and coughing people made their way through what seemed like a never ending crowd of people in the same state. Tricks was about to give up when Max suddenly released her hand and ran to two people a few feet away.

"Papa! Mama!" he yelled.

"Max! Max! Max!" The woman cried, enveloping her son in her arms. "You're alive, you're alive!"

Max turned and pointed at Tricks, "She helped me climb out, me and a bunch of others."

The man turned to Tricks with tears in his eyes and hugged her tightly. "Thank you," he said, holding back tears, "For saving our son."

"It was nothin'," Tricks said awkwardly, stepping aside as the man turned and pulled his wife and child into his arms. "Be good, kid." Tricks smiled as she and Denton walked away.

"A bunch of people?" Denton asked as they retreated from the crowd, "You helped a bunch of people climb out of a burning building? How many is 'a bunch'?"

Tricks shrugged, "Bout ten, wasn't really worried about countin'," she said distractedly, looking through the crowd for signs of her brother or Mush.

"Should we got back to the office and wait there?" Denton asked anxiously, and Tricks knew he wanted to get a jump on the story.

Tricks shook her head violently, watching the main road. "They'll come here," she said confidently.

"They may not even know what happened yet, Tricks."

Tricks turned to look at Denton, smiling slightly, "They's Newsies Denton," she laughed. "Course they know."

XXXXX

_Ok, guys, I'm trying! What do you think so far? I had this whole thing storyboarded out (since people thought YCSKF was too long) but this fire story line just hit me the other night when I was writing! Anything you like, dislike or want more of?-Screamer_

_PS thanks to everyone who submitted a review. It's helped me keep a smile on my face._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Days like today, when there was a big trial or the cops were rounding up a ring of mobsters, papers sold quickly. So quickly, in fact, that some of the bigger newspapers put out a midday edition, in an attempt to get a jump on the competition. Even without a midday edition, there was a chance of getting a few extra copies of the morning paper at a discount, a chance to make a few extra pennies on a good newsday.

Leaning against the statue of Horace Greely (which provided the only shade in the square), Mush watched the mustached men chalk up the latest headlines:

_FIERY INFERNO AT COURTHOUSE DELAYS SULLIVAN APPEAL_

His stomach dropped as he walked towards the chalkboards, squinting and refocusing on the headline, not wanting to believe what he was reading. Tricks was at the courthouse today.

"J-Jack!" he yelled, pointing up to the headlines.

"Good story tanight," Jack replied with a shrug, turning back to Specs and Bumlets and resuming his conversation.

"Tricks was at da courthouse today," Mush replied urgently. "They's readin' the verdict today."

The two boys exchanged nervous glances, then took off running towards the courthouse. Mush ran as fast as his legs could carry him, approaching the courthouse from the rear, knowing the police would be blocking the front. The air turned smoky three blocks away, and Mush realized the headline writer hadn't been exaggerating when he used the words 'fiery inferno'.

The closer they got to the court square, the more and more worried Mush became. Scorched people wandered around in a daze, emergency bells rang out, and reinforcement barrels of water were pulled by horses towards the fire. The fire was still burning as Jack and Mush approached, the latter dodging through a line of police officers and bee lining straight for the courtroom he'd sat in with Tricks a few days earlier. Glancing back, he saw Jack was barely two steps behind him; the noise was deafening so Mush pointed to the courtroom, indicating that's where they'd find Tricks.

The windows were completely blown out and glass littered the grass. Flames licked away at the marble, while the wooden balcony inside groaned, threatening to collapse. Mush's stomach sank; Tricks was tough, Mush reassured himself, there's no way she would die trapped inside a burning building.

And that's when he saw it: the makeshift rope constructed from various pieces of clothing. And on the very end, a bright green sash, the same color as Tricks wore to court a few days ago. Seeing the sash, Mush knew Tricks escaped the fire, now it was just a matter of finding her.

He raced around the building, seeing two distinct groups on the wise courthouse lawn. To the left, patients with burns, cuts, breaks, and sprains sat on cots, waiting for treatment. To the right, the survivors, reporters, and anyone else who could walk milled around in a daze, looking for loved ones or staring at the flames. Deciding Tricks had to be in the crowd to the right, Mush headed towards the survivors, Jack on his heels. And if Tricks wasn't in the crowd to the right? Mush didn't want to think about that.

When they were young, Tricks had a habit of wandering off and getting lost in the crowd as they sold papers. On sunny day, the easiest way to find her was to look not for her face, but for her hair. Sunlight caused the red in Tricks's hair lit up, making it seem as though her head was on fire. He scanned the crowd, looking for that red hair against the backdrop of the real fire raging in the courthouse.

"Ya see her?" Jack asked, pushing people out of the way as they rushed through the crowd. "What about Denton?"

"Not yet," Mush replied tersely. She was here, she had to be. Time was moving too slowly, and so were Mush's feet.

"Maybe she ain't here," Jack suggested, "Maybe they went back ta Denton's office."

Mush pushed a man covered in soot out of his way, "Nah, she'd figure out we'd come for he. She's here somewheres." He scanned the crowd, silently pleading for a glimpse of his girlfriend. She was here and he knew it, it was just a matter of finding her. The rush of people, meandering around in a hapless daze was not making this search any easier.

"Can't find Denton neither," Jack said nervously, scanning the crowd. Jack's height was an advantage, Mush was at least six inches shorter than Jack.

"Her hair," Mush spit the words out, reluctant to share his secret game with Jack, "Look for her hair, easiest way ta find her."

Jack eyes narrowed as he scanned the tops of peoples' heads."There!" he shouted , pointing to two people standing on the other side of the grass, slightly away from the crowd. Without speaking, both Mush and Jack tore off, running as fast as their legs would carry them towards Denton and Tricks, who had plopped down on the grass to wait.

Mush reached the pair first, and Tricks jumped up as she saw him.

"Tricks!" He skidded to a stop in front of Tricks, her fancy dress covered in soot and torn in a few places. She wrapped her arms around Mush's neck, squeezing her body tightly against his. Mush didn't ever want to let go.

"Don't even care 'bout her own brudda," Jack said moodily behind the pair.

"Happens to the best of us," Denton replied with a chuckle, slapping Jack on the back.

Mush finally released Tricks and stepped back, looking at her straight in the eyes, "From now on, I'm goin' wit ya, ok?" Mush said, holding Tricks' face in his hands.

"Ok," Tricks nodded, for once not resisting or making a snide remark. Though she wouldn't admit it, Mush could tell she was just as scared as he was. He wrapped her in a hug again, her face buried in his chest.

And it was a good thing Tricks couldn't see, because the Police wagon passed at that exact moment. From inside, Connor Sullivan stared at Tricks's back. Mush looked up and saw Jack scowling darkly as the wagon turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Jack shook his head slightly, warning Mush to say nothing in front of Denton.

"Well, Ms. Kelly and I need to get back to the office," Denton said pointedly.

"I think the story can wait, Denton," Tricks said, pulling away from Mush and crossing her arms. "I almost died in dat buildin', I'm not itching to write a story about it right now."

"Tricks Kelly, you _are_ part of the story," Denton laughed, pointing to the gaggle of people standing a few yards away, pointing at Tricks and talking animatedly with a group of reporters. One of them broke off and beelined towards Tricks and Denton.

"Great," Tricks replied sarcastically, "Let's get the hell outta here."

XXXXXX

_Race wasn't sure exactly what his two new friends were hiding from, but he knew they were running from something. The girl had trouble remembering her name most days. It took a gentle shove from her brother before she would respond, if you could get a word out of her._

_"Just shy," Jack responded when people questioned him, "dat's all."_

_But Race didn't believe him. In his year as a Newsie, Racetrack Higgins saw his fair share of boys hoping to hide, to disappear, pass through the bunkhouse. And something told him that Jack and Jane Kelly wanted to disappear. _

_"Why's she look like dat every time she read the headlines?" Race asked the day the day Connor Sullivan's trial started. Jane Kelly took one look at the headline and turned white as a sheet._

_"Read?" Jack said with a grin, lazily grabbing the paper out of his sister's hand. "She can't read, she's just lookin' at the drawin's." Jane shot her brother a pointed look, rubbing her nose and smudging ink all over it as she did so. Jack grinned again, winking at his sister, who scowled back._

_It was a winning grin. A grin that would earn Jack a lot of repeat customers among the well-heeled ladies on the streets of New York. Especially with headlines straight out of a murder serial. Race knew Jack was lying, but shrugged it off. Selling with Jack put extra money in Race's pocket, and Jack and Jane Kelly weren't the only Newsies with secrets they wanted to keep._

_XXXXXXX_


	7. Chapter 7

_After two months of living in fear that someone would come looking for them, Jack Kelly began to relax. And as the headlines about Connor Sullivan started to fade away, so did the fear and the memory of the life Jack and Jane left behind them in the big apartment overlooking Central Park._

_Race proved to be a better friend than Jack could have ever imagined, showing him how to sell papes, how to manipulate a headline, and helping him keep his sister safe. Though there were no explicit rules against Newsgirls in the bunkhouse, Race couldn't say with certainty Jane Kelly would be welcome. _

_Each night before heading into the Lodging House, tucked her hair under her hat, the last step of disguising her in boys clothes. Jack paid the fee and signed in for both of them, while Jane stood silently at his side, her eyes to the ground. The Newsies stayed silent, keeping Jane's identity a secret._

_Until one night, as Jack signed the bunkhouse ledger, Kloppman sighed and shook his head. _

_"Son, we both know that child's name ain't Joe," Klopman said, "So tell me what her name is."_

_"Jane," Jack replied quietly, avoiding the old man's eyes. He liked it at the bunkhouse; what if Kloppman told Jane she couldn't stay? Jack would have to leave, too._

_"Jane, that's a very pretty name," Klopman said, bending over and taking off the girl's Newsie cap. Jane's hair fell around her face, framing it as she looked up at Klopman. "That's better."_

_Jane was visibly shaking as Klopman stood and quietly surveyed Jack, who gulped as the silence settled over the room. Where could they go if they could no longer stay here?_

_"Don't worry," Klopman finally replied. "I'm not kickin' ya out. Just keep an eye on her."_

_The Kelly siblings grinned, then stomped upstairs to join their friends in the bunkroom._

_XXXXXXXX_

When Tricks finally escaped the news office later that night, she was ushered into the company's carriage and deposited safely at the steps of the Lodging House. After escaping the gaggle of reporters headed her way outside of the courthouse, Tricks retreated to the offices of _The Sun_ with Denton, Mush, and Jack.

Denton insisted on getting Tricks's story (though she protested)printed in the evening edition of _The Sun_, which meant a long day cooped up in Denton's office. Mush refused to leave Tricks's side, but after much insistence from Tricks ('how can I work if I got ya hangin' around buggin' me all the time?') and Denton's promise to send her home in the paper's carriage as soon as they finished, Jack was able to coax Mush out the door.

Tired, weary, and smelling of the soot and smoke that filled the courtroom, Tricks trudged up the stairs to the bathroom. The soot and smoke from the fire permeated her clothes, skin, hair-anything with a porous surface-and the smell was beginning to make her nauseous. She couldn't wait to scrub the smell away, to start again. Tricks striped off her fancy clothes, throwing them to the ground as she filled the tin wash bin. She climbed into the tub and submerged her body under the water, closing her eyes as the Denton's words flooded her mind.

"Just write like you were talking to me," Denton insisted, grabbing her by the shoulders and sitting her in front of the typewriter, "Or Jack or Mush, or whomever you want to pretend you're talking to."

Tricks sighed as she faced the typewriter; Denton didn't want to interview her, he wanted Tricks to write the story. And at the moment, Tricks Kelly was not in the mood to play the hero, so she typed what she felt...

_I'm sure you'll hear this same story in other papers, told by other voices. But I want to let you know what really happened. I assure you, whatever the other papers may say, I am no hero. My brother once told me that you do what you have to in order to survive. When I heard that voice call out, amidst the smoke and the flames and the chaos, I knew I could never live with myself if I left those people to burn. Maybe I would survive the fire, but my own guilt? That represented a much more painful death._

_You see, I am no hero; I am a coward, a selfish person. My actions were not predicated on saving the lives of those ten people trapped on the balcony of the courthouse, my actions were based on saving my own life..._

Of course, that wasn't the story that made the evening edition of _The Sun_. Denton read Tricks's copy and sighed, pushing it back in her face. They'd conducted a quick interview, and Tricks gave him solid quotes through which he constructed an article: 'REPORTER VINDICATED IN COURT, SAVES 10 FROM FIERY DEATH'. Then Tricks hopped in the carriage and made it back to the bunkhouse before the papers were off the press.

Tricks surfaced and scrubbed her skin raw, trying to remove any lingering traces of the day's events. The sun was setting, bathing the bathroom in a deep amber light. Knowing the bunkhouse was empty, she wrapped her body in a towel and hurried downstairs to her room, closing the door and collapsing on her bed without bothering to change.

Pulling the worn quilt from the end of the her bed up over her eyes, she attempted to squeeze in a quick catnap; the boys would return soon, bringing their chaos and questions with them.

XXXXXXX

_There were days when Jane Kelly had trouble remembering her own name. Jack couldn't tell if it was an honest mistake or if his sister was punishing him for naming her after the aunt she so passionately despised. He shrugged it off, knowing that one day, like every other Newsie, Tricks would receive a nickname, and eventually her "real" name would fade in to obscurity, never to be used again._

_Jack had already earned his nickname, based on one of the few possessions he'd taken with him when they fled from the apartment: a tattered copy of a comic book telling the story of a city man who moved West and became a cowboy. Jack had a nickname, but none of the boys really knew what to call Jane._

_It wasn't that the Newsies didn't like her, she blended in well with the ragtag group of boys. Race especially took a liking to Jane, teaching her how to hustle dice and card games. Jack would catch the two playing dice against the older, unsuspecting Newsies who didn't expect an eight year old girl to beat them at dice. Their money stack grew as Jane cleaned up, leaving the game with a fist full of coins that she split with Race._

_"Dat's my goil," Race said with a grin, mussing up Jane's hair. "Don't let anybody tell ya ya can't do somethin' just 'cause you a goil. Remember that, ok?"_

_Jane nodded her head and grinned eagerly back._

_If taking the boys' money wasn't reason enough for the Newsies to dislike his sister, there was also the havoc she caused around the bunkhouse. Black ink on toothbrushes that turned the sleeping, unsuspecting Newboy's teeth dark black. Wooden nickels, painstakingly painted to look real and glue to the floor. Specs received a nasty splinter under one nail trying to pry the coin off the bunkhouse floor boards. _

_And then there was the night she tied all the boys shoe laces together, in a circle, crisscrossing laces with ones across the circle. It took them nearly twenty minutes to sort the mess out...and no one could figure out how she managed to tie nearly 240 laces together in the pitch black without waking a soul._

_At first Jack worried his sister's antics would get them banished from the gang of Manhattan Newsies. But the boys took Jane's behavior in stride, laughing it off and eventually using her pranks as the basis of her Newsie nickname: Tricks._

_"I like it!" Tricks proclaimed with a smile, as she watched Skittery attempt to get into his short sheeted bed. "Next person that tries to call me Jane is gonna get punched in the nose."_

_Tricks Kelly kept her promise; after the first broken nose, no one dared to call her Jane again._

_XXXXXXXX_

_**Another short chapter, but I couldn't leave you hanging while I went away for the weekend. Thanks to everyone for the reviews! They mean so much-screamer**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Author Note:** I owe everyone who has been diligently reading this story and apology; I've been away for awhile and I felt bad leaving you hanging, waiting for the next chapter. Not to go into too much detail, but I was in the hospital for a bit with blinding migraines (at times they were so bad I was throwing up!). It took them awhile to figure out what was wrong and how to treat it, and during that time they suggested I try NOT to stare at a computer screen when possible, or even tv for long periods of time. The good news is, I have new meds and they are working wonderfully, so I will start updating with some more regularity in the coming weeks :0)

XXXXX

A few hours after escaping the fire, Trick began to cough a dry, hacking cough. A cough so intense, she refused to sleep in the bunkroom, afraid her hacking would keep the boys awake all night. Instead, she retreated downstairs to her small bedroom, closing the door and hoping she wouldn't disturb anyone.

But her coughing still reached the eats of the boys above, sending either Jack, Mush, or Race scurrying down the staircase, brandishing a glass of water. More often than not, they found her red faced, gasping for air as the coughs wracked her body. One night, the coughing became so bad Tricks tumbled out of bed, falling to the floor moments before she throw up all over it.

Mush was the one who found her that night, and Tricks was grateful. He held her hair back and whispered soothingly in her ear, then helped her back into bed. He stayed until she fell asleep, then crept back to the bunkroom in the dark, staying awake until his eyes refused to cooperate, just in case Tricks needed him again.

Three days after the fire, her coughing was so bad, Medda sent for a doctor to examine Tricks. "Smoke inhalation," he declared, putting away his stethoscope.

Medda clucked her tongue and jutted out her hip, "Anyway to treat it, Doc?" she asked sweetly, her eyes falling on Tricks, who had relapsed into another fit of coughing.

"We can give her some pure oxygen, but other than that, not really."

"Do it," Medda said, pressing some money into the doctor's hand. "And kid, when he's done with ya head home-"

"I'm fine, really," Trick insisted, choking out the words in between coughs.

Medda leaned down and smiled, "Ya may think you're fine but they can hear ya coughin' all the way up in the rafters. Go home, spend some time with that boy of yours." Medda winked and sauntered away as the doctor strapped and odd breathing device over Tricks's mouth and fastened it behind her ears.

"Breathe in deeply," he instructed, turning the knobs on a huge green tank. "You'll feel better in a bit."

XXXXXXXXX

For twenty minutes, Tricks sat still and took deep breaths all while cursing the doctor under her breath. When she was finally released, she wobbled to the door, her head woozy and the room spinning. Tricks took her time returning to the bunkhouse, stopping at a local bakery and purchased a sandwich, apple, and some cookies to bring back with her.

"Ain't ya supposed to be at Medda's tanight?" Jack asked, as Tricks entered the bunkhouse. It was late and he was dressed in his nicest clothes, and Tricks could smell the fresh scent of soap wafting from his skin. He was going to visit Sarah.

"Medda made me come home," Tricks said with a shrug. "Said the coughin' was too disruptive to the clientele. "

Jack raised an eyebrow, "Still not feelin' any betta?"

Depositing her items on the counter, Tricks shook her head."Nope," she replied, jumping on the counter and taking a bite out of the apple. "Doc checked me out, said take it easy, drink lotsa water. The usual."

"Well, good, then ya can come ta Davey's wit me. His parents' been asking 'bout ya-"

"I ain't goin'," Tricks said irritably, cutting Jack off mid-sentence. "Listen, Jack...I get it, you like this girl, ya really do, but it's you that's gotta impress people, not me. I'll go next time, ok? I already survived a fire, been bombarded by reporters, and had Morris Delancy spit in me face. Think that's enough excitement for one week, don't need to add breaking other peoples' dishes to that list."

Jack frowned and crossed his arms, "Alright," he said finally, "But ya comin' next time, I don't care if ya survive a hurricane, blizzard, whatevah, got me?"

Tricks nodded in affirmation and Jack's look softened. "Morris Delancy spit at ya? He's lucky he already in jail..."  
XXXXXXX

The air was cool and thick with the fragrance of fall as Tricks and Mush made their way to the willow tree by the pond. Since the fire, Tricks complained of smelling smoke and burning wood when she was cooped up in doors and preferred to be outside whenever possible. In fact, if Denton would let her, she would probably do all of her work for _The Sun_ on the building's roof.

"My hair still smells like smoke," Tricks complained, scuffing her toe against the walkway iratibly.

Mush leaned to her hair and took a deep breath, inhaling whiffs of cinnamon, butter, vanilla, and maybe even the slightest trace of the sweet cigars sold at Irving Hall. "No, it doesn'," he insisted, "ya smell like...a bakery."

"Ya just smelling the food I brought," she insisted, shaking the bakery bag impatiently. "I feel like...like the smoke is in my skin."

The willow tree was within eyesight when Mush stopped and grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing Tricks to look at him. "Listen, just forget about the fire, aight? We's just gonna have a good time tonight and not worry about the fire or da Delanceys...or anythin' else."

Tricks stuck out her lip stubbornly and narrowed her eyes. Mush was certain she was forming some sort of retort, he could practically see it forming on the tip of her tongue as she licked her lips. "Fine," she finally said, wrenching her arms from Mush's grip. "Let's just eat before I start coughin' again."

They ate in peace, laughing and telling stories, interrupted by only one small fit of hacking. Mush handed Tricks the entire bottle of water he filled up at the bunkhouse and Tricks drank nearly all of it, gulping it down like a fish. After finishing the last crumbs of the cookies, they lay in the grass under the willow tree, heads next to each other, but their feet pointing in opposite directions.

The pose was an automatic reaction; as kids, Trick sand Mush climbed the fire escape and disappeared into a corner of the roof to stare up at the stars. Sitting with his check pressed against Tricks's was as natural to Mush as breathing, and he revealed in this brief moment of silence and calm.

"What if they let him out, Mush?" Tricks asked quietly. He knew she was refering to Connor Sullivan and the appeal trial. There was no escaping the case; Tricks heard it at _The Sun_, from the newsboys shouts on the street, and even back at the bunkhouse, where each newsboy made wild prediction about the appeal. Even the fire at the courthouse was due to Connor Sullivan: _The Journal_ found a source who claimed the fire had been set by the mob, in an attempt to distract the crowd so they could kidnap the star witness.

Mush paused, debating how he should answer. "They ain't gonna let him go, Tricks," he replied softly.

"But what if they do?"

Mush raised his body up on his elbows and looked down at her, "Even if he wanted to come lookin' for ya, he's got no clue where ta start. Jack kept ya outta jail, off the record. He ain't gonna find ya." He collapsed back down into the cool grass, hoping the conversation was over. Mush couldn't bare the thought of losing Tricks again, and avoided the topic whenever he could.

"And if he does," Tricks whispered, "Find me, I mean. What then?"

"We'll run away," Mush offered with a laugh.

"Do you mean it?"

"Who's gonna stop us?" he laughed again, "Da bulls? They could care less about two street kids goin' missin'."

Tricks was silent, the wheels turning in her head as she considered Mush's suggestion. Though Mush's suggestion was initially a joke, Tricks was taking it seriously, planning every detail out in her head. "Where we gonna run to?"

"Whereva ya want," Mush said with a yawn, closing his eyes. It was getting late; they needed to be back at the bunkhouse before Jack returned from dinner with Sarah's family.

"Mexico?" Tricks offered.

"Nah, too hot."

"Canada?"

"Why go ta Canada when we can go ta England?"

"Why England?"

"Why not? Just mosey on up ta the Queen's palace, bunk there for a few days. Live like kings."

"No, not England...what about...Africa? We can live with the lions..."

The conversation continued this way, with Mush and Tricks alternatively spitting out bolder, more ridiculous plans of escaping New York City and disappearing into Europe. They were laughing so loud and having so much fun, they didn't notice the rain falling from the sky until it was coming down in buckets. Even the thick foliage of the willow tree wouldn't protect them for much longer, and there was no way they'd make it back to the bunkhouse.

"There!" Mush said, pointing to a small shack about a hundred yards from the tree. The shack was home to canoes and paddle boats that were rented out each day, and Mush knew from experience that the door was rarely locked.

Giving Tricks his coat to cover her head, he grabbed her hand and they sprinted to the shack, huddling together under the small overhang and Mush forced the door open. Stumbling inside, Mush fumbled for a candle and matches. The small candle cast a soft glow over the room, and over Tricks who was shivering under Mush's jacket.

"Don't think it's gonna let up anytime soon," Tricks said, her eyes skyward as the pounding off the water droplets on the roof grew louder.

"We'll just bunk here for da night," Mush replied, searching the room for a cot or other suitable bed. Finding nothing but boats, he helped Tricks into one of the canoes.

"Here," Mush said, grabbing a piece of canvas off the wall, and handing it to Tricks. It wasn't the softest blanket, but it would at least keep her warm.

"Ya comin'?" Tricks replied, spreading out the canvas and depositing her wet shoes and socks on the floor outside the canoe.

Mush grinned and peeled off his wet socks, carefully balancing the candle as he climbed in behind Tricks. She settled in to the canoe bottom and Mush pulled the thick piece of canvas over their bodies, extinguishing the candle.  
XXXXXX


End file.
